


Meant to Be

by ChibiYoda



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, Magic, Science Boyfriends, Science Bros, Selfless Bruce, This Is My Ship and It Has Wrecked Me, Tony is Tony In Any Form
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:35:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22879588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChibiYoda/pseuds/ChibiYoda
Summary: A modern fairy tale inspired by an IronStrange prompt that had Stephen as a genie. I really wanted to see Tony take on that role.
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Tony Stark
Comments: 5
Kudos: 58





	Meant to Be

Bruce wasn't sure how he'd ended up back in Brazil. In an effort to put as much distance as possible between himself and the U.S. he'd managed to get halfway around the globe, relying only on his wits for survival. It had been no easy feat, even for a genius. The world he was forced to reside in now was far removed from academia. His brilliance took a backseat to the need for street-smarts. Usually the two don't mix. But Bruce had pulled from childhood experience, and used his brains to expand his self-preservation skills. It was working. He was doing ok. He'd gotten used to his new life. It could be a lot worse. He could be in a prison cell, or being used as a lab experiment. Those thoughts kept him going, and gave him the perspective to find the thinnest of silver linings in his situation.

Now he was risking it all by heading back to the States. He couldn't even explain why he was doing it. It made no sense. All he knew was that something was telling him to take this route. Since his gut had served him well this far he continued to follow his instincts, however illogical the request.

He had been able to secure room and board in exchange for manual labor on a small farm. It wasn't much of a farm. Just some goats and chickens. But it was enough to sustain the family, and allow them to make a little money selling eggs and goat jerky. While Bruce may not have been much to look at, he'd gained some physical strength during his journey. He'd never win any body-building contests, but he had a solid frame under his usually ill-fitting clothes.

A demonstration of his medical knowledge also added to his appeal.

Even on the outskirts of society, Bruce felt the constant need to prove his worth. He never realized that the people he'd been associating with during this phase of his life were the type that could already tell a good guy from a bad one in seconds.

And Bruce was as good as they come.

Bruce was never really comfortable anywhere that he was, so the first night or two in a new place were restless for him. Reading whatever he could get his hands on was a way to pass the sleepless hours. He was good at picking up enough of a language to allow himself at least basic communication with the locals of an area. On the other hand, putting effort into deciphering the written word was often taxing. So he was quite happy to have landed a copy of the New York Times, left behind on a cafe table by a tourist the day before. It was now a few days old, but it would be the most recent news from the States he'd had in a while.

His hosts had only candles to provide light during the night. The one in Bruce's room really wasn't enough to read by for very long without straining his eyes to the point of headache. So the following morning Bruce would head to the market square in search of something better.

*

*

*

Bruce drew a breath as he neared his destination, forever wary of putting himself out in the open, but soothed by the knowledge that crowds also provided distraction, should he need to disappear. While not the largest market he'd ever been to, it offered the same variety of items that Bruce expected to see. He walked the length of it first, noting which vendors he might want to stop at.

At the very end was a small stand, attended by an elderly woman. Bruce could feel her eyes on him as he approached. It was giving him the creeps, to be honest.

He smiled politely and nodded, intending to turn in the other direction, when the woman called to him.

"I have what you need."

Her English was broken, but the words were unmistakable. This threw Bruce for a loop. He stammered, "Ex...cuse me?"

She gestured for him to come closer, as she reached under her table.

In only a couple of steps, Bruce was close enough to see what she was holding. A small lamp. She offered it to him.

Bruce cautiously took it from her hands to inspect it. There wasn't much to it. A very basic design, and not fancy in the way of ornamentation. Just a serviceable little lamp which used kerosene, judging by the faint smell of it that he was detecting. It was, in fact, exactly what he needed. He handed it back to the woman.

"How much?" he asked.

She gave him a knowing smile and waved her hand. "It's yours."

Confused, Bruce attempted to barter, but she would have none of it, insisting that he just take it. He couldn't, in good conscience, accept a gift from a perfect stranger. And one that was in business to make money, not give away freebies. So while she was busy wrapping the lamp in some paper, Bruce tucked several reals under the corner of a bolt of fabric on her table.

*

*

* 

Having been busy with various chores throughout the day, it was early evening when Bruce retrieved the lamp from his room. It was then that he noticed that he'd forgotten to purchase some kerosene for it during the strange transaction at the market that morning. He supposed he'd be able to last another night without sufficient reading light. On the scale of inconveniences in his life at the moment, this didn't even rank.

The lamp looked like it could use a bit of cleaning. He rummaged around for a rag, then decided to take advantage of the last remnants of daylight, and took his little project outside.

He walked a comfortable distance from the house, the family's dog in toe. A scraggly thing, black and white, missing the tip of its left ear. It was good-natured though, and had taken a liking to Bruce. Animals were sometimes better company than humans, so Bruce didn't mind. When Bruce settled onto a level spot on the ground, it lay down a few feet away.

Bruce now eyed the lamp. The base of it seemed to have collected the most grime. He wrapped the rag around two fingers and began to wipe. After a few moments it became apparent that it was going to require some effort to get the crud off. He swept his fingers back and forth, rubbing with some force. 

In an odd sensation, Bruce swore he felt his skin heating up, but before he could process that thought, a puff of vapor swirled out from the point where the wick entered the base. Startled, he tossed the lamp to the grass, and the dog began to bark.

Bruce watched in astonishment as a male figure rose from the growing plume of smoke. Annoyed at the noise, the apparition turned to the dog. "Shhh!" he scolded.

The animal whimpered, its ears drooped and head bowed. The man(?) apologized for his harshness. "Sorry," he offered, "but you've gotta keep it down."

He then turned his attention to a slack-jawed Bruce and gave a nod. "Hey. How's it goin'?"

Bruce wondered if he could have possibly eaten some funny mushrooms. Dressed simply in jeans and a black t-shirt which had some sort of shimmering blue symbol on it, the guy looked pretty normal. Except for a quite unique goatee.

And, oh yeah, he came out of a lamp.

Trying to remember how to form words, Bruce stuttered, "Who...are you?"

While buffing a fingernail on his shirt the apparition sighed, "I'm the guy who gets to grant you a wish."

"What, like a genie?" This hallucination was getting more bizarre by the second.

"Yeah. Just like that."

Now Bruce didn't know much about genies, but everyone knows that they're supposed to give more than a single wish. "Aren't I supposed to get three?"

Genie pursed his lips. "Aren't you a Greedy Gus. How many genies do you know?"

Bruce had to admit, "None."

"Well, there you go. Don't believe everything you see in the movies. Look, I don't make the rules. All I know is that you get one wish, and no, you can't wish for more wishes." The genie added, "And I'm not gonna off somebody for you, either. I'm a genie, not an assassin."

"No...of course not." There was really only one person on Earth that Bruce would wish ill upon. But even if he had the chance he wasn't sure if he'd go through with it. Would he want to validate the labels he'd been given?

Genie was growing impatient with this rube. "So, what's it gonna be? Money? Fame? Power? What are you into?"

Although Bruce was far from convinced that what seemed to be happening was at all plausible, he was a practical man, and he didn't want to blow it if indeed his request would be granted. 

Money would be nice, but it wouldn't solve his problems. Fame? He was already famous in the wrong circles for the wrong reasons. Power? Already a check on that one, in a roundabout way. He waved his hands, "Hang on, hang on. This is a big decision. I have to think about it."

Genie sighed dramatically.

"Do I have some sort of time limit?"

Genie shook his head.

Relieved, Bruce decided that if he was going to play this game he'd do it on his own timetable. "Ok then. I'll let you know when I've made up my mind."

"Suit yourself." With that, Genie plopped onto the ground across from Bruce. He tried to mimic Bruce's crossed legs, but couldn't do it. Instead, he stretched them straight out, and settled back on his palms.

This prompted Bruce to inquire, "What are you doing?"

"Hang out with you. Unless you want me to go back into the lamp. But it's boring in there."

Bruce was a little confused. "But what if someone sees you?"

"Not to worry. No one else can see or hear me. Except him." Genie pointed to the dog, who wagged its tail at the attention.

"Well...ok. I don't want you to be confined to a container." Bruce would feel far too guilty to impose that on even this strange stranger.

Genie was visibly pleased. "Great! It'll be fun."

"I doubt that." Bruce's life has been sorely lacking in fun for a long time.

Now that he seemed to have a companion of sorts, introductions were the obvious next appropriate step. "So, do you have a name? I'm Bruce, by the way."

The apparition thought about it for a moment. He had a fleeting notion that there was indeed a definitive answer to that question. But it slipped away before he could grasp it. He hid his frustration. "Genie is fine."

Bruce offered a skeptical, but genuine smile. "It's nice to meet you, Genie."

*

*

*

The following morning Bruce opened his eyes to see Genie sitting on a small chair across from the bed...which was actually more of a cot, but he had slept on worse. When he'd closed his eyes the night before, he fully expected to wake up alone. But now it was confirmed that the previous day had not been a dream or hallucination.

"Good morning Sunshine." Genie chirped.

Bruce sat up. "Were you sitting there all night?" The thought made him uncomfortable.

Genie picked up on Bruce's unease, and took ever so slight offense. "Yeah. But see, time moves differently for me. So it wasn't like I was watching you sleep for seven hours. I mean, technically I did. By your clock. But it wasn't like seven hours for me. That would be weird. I'm not some creeper."

"Noted." Bruce chuckled.

While his hosts were preparing breakfast, Bruce would go freshen up at the river about a half mile away. With a towel, some homemade soap and a change of clothes in hand, he set off on his trek, Genie following along.

The sun was bright but the temperature was still in the comfortable zone. From what Genie could tell, Bruce seemed to enjoy the walk, wishing a good morning to the few locals they passed on the way.

When they reached the river, Bruce set his fresh clothes aside and proceeded to strip off the previous day's garments, while Genie leaned crossed-armed against a tree. As Bruce was about to remove his boxers, a startled Genie exclaimed, "Whoa, hey there!"

With a casualness that surprised the apparition, Bruce replied, "Well I'm not gonna bathe fully clothed."

"So you get freaked out by the thought of me watching you sleep. While you have your clothes on, mind you. But you have no qualms about showing off your goods to me during waking hours?"

In a weary tone Bruce explained, "Necessity has forced modesty and me into an understanding." He then picked up the soap, and waded waist-deep into the water.

Genie began to think that there was more to Bruce than meets the eye.

After refreshing himself, Bruce donned the clean clothes and washed the dirty ones as best he could. He'd hang them out to dry once they got back to the house.

Genie wrinkled his nose at Bruce's efforts. "There has got to be a better way to do that task."

"There is. But not here, I'm afraid. We aren't exactly in the most affluent area of the world. Or even of this country." Bruce gathered up his things.

Genie was baffled. "Well let's go to one of those places then."

Bruce simply offered, "That's really not an option for me at this time."

"Why not?"

"Long story." Bruce began walking.

"I've got time. Unless you've decided on your wish. Then I'd be on my way pretty soon I suppose."

Bruce shook his head. "No, I'm still working on that."

"Ok. That means we have time to chat," Genie reasoned.

It would be nice to be able to talk about his green side with someone. Just for some emotional support. So he wouldn't feel so damn alone anymore. But Bruce couldn't trust anyone with this secret. And even if he found someone he felt strongly enough about to chance revealing himself, the odds were very good that he or she wouldn't be in his life much longer after they knew the truth.

He glanced at Genie, who didn't look back and just continued to watch the path in front of them. Here was someone who was physically, or spiritually or whatever, unable to tell anyone about Bruce. It was sort of a perfect situation.

And that's the problem. this whole scenario was still a little too good to be true as far as Bruce was concerned. He refused to let his guard down over something that every fiber in his science-loving body was telling him was impossible.

Yet Bruce himself was living proof of the possibility of the impossible.

The house was coming into view now. Bruce spotted Grandmother, the family's matriarch, standing just outside the doorway, and a young man running toward them. He momentarily tensed, and Genie was sure he'd seen Bruce's eyes turn from brown to green for a split second. But all returned to normal when they heard the man call out 'doctor'.

Bruce held out his hands as a signal for him to slow down. In serviceable English, the out of breath man explained that his infant son was running a fever, and asked if Bruce would go to see him.

"Yes, of course. Let me get my bag."

Grandmother took Bruce's wet clothes from him. He retrieved his not-so-gently used medical bag from his room, and he (and Genie) accompanied the new father back to his home.

When word got around that a doctor was nearby, Bruce found his day peppered with visits from others in the community. He ended up spending the whole day at the young couple's home, which had become a walk-in clinic of sorts. On one hand, Bruce felt both honored and humbled to serve these people. On the other, he felt terrible that he was the best they could do for their needs.

Genie had done his best not to distract Bruce, though curiosity had him asking questions occasionally. Bruce would casually nod or shake his head accordingly when no one was looking. As the hours passed, his observations taught Genie quite a lot about Bruce. This man was kind, gentle and compassionate. Confident when in his element, but insecure the rest of the time. Bruce was obviously smart, but Genie couldn't really gauge the extent of Bruce's intelligence.

Another thing he hadn't figured out yet was whatever it was that Bruce was hiding.

The unlikely duo remained at the pop-up clinic until the late afternoon. It was at this point that Bruce was satisfied that the baby would be fine, and all of the walk-ins had been tended to.

They headed back to Bruce's temporary home. Once there he proceeded to gather and chop some wood for the family. Even though he hadn't had much downtime all day, he felt he had to accomplish at least a small task for the people who were being so kind to him.

After a simple but filling dinner, Bruce retired to his room. He washed up a bit in the basin while Genie made himself comfortable on the room's single chair. Bruce assumes the comfort part. He really has no idea if the apparition can physically feel anything.

He noticed Genie staring. "What?"

Having spent most of the day relatively silent, Genie had nearly forgotten that he could converse with Bruce now. With an air of indignation he replied, "Nothing in particular. Since you don't want to tell me about yourself, I've been observing. Piecing it together." 

Bruce wondered if all genies had an attitude. "And what have you learned?"

"You're a doctor. Very noble profession."

Bruce laid his damp towel over a short line of rope which extended between the basin stand and wall, then sat down on the edge of his cot.

"Not a licensed, practicing physician, no. But I've had some training, and I try to put it to good use."

"Even more noble." Genie said flatly.

Bruce shifted in his seat. "And it's not that I don't want to talk to you. It's just that my situation is..."

"Complicated," Genie finished. "Because I've heard that one before. Probably."

"Unique," Bruce countered, and when Genie raised an eyebrow at that, he tried to deflect. "And what about you? What's your story?"

Genie's face fell an almost imperceptible amount. Almost. "I don't have one," he stated matter-of-factly.

Bruce doubted that. "Well, what were you doing before we met?"

"Nothing."

"That doesn't make sense."

Genie became a touch irritated. "Look, I was in the lamp, then you got the lamp, and now I'm out of the lamp."

"I gathered that much," Bruce replied, "but what about before that? Have you granted wishes for many others?"

Genie shrugged his shoulders.

Perplexed, Bruce blurted, "Am I your first?" He regretted his choice of words the moment they left his mouth.

His lips curled upward, and Genie's large bright eyes reduced to mere slits. "Could be, Big Guy. So please be gentle."

Even in the dimly lit room Bruce's blush was profound.

Genie giggled. "Really, I can't remember. Maybe I reset after each one or something."

Bruce wasn't terribly fond of how his life had turned out thus far, but Genie's life didn't sound too appealing either.

Feeling bad about prying, Bruce acquiesced. "When I'm in danger, or particularly stressed, I transform into a giant green rage monster."

Blindsided by this sudden announcement, Genie did a double take. "You're joking."

Bruce shook his head.

Genie's melancholy evaporated. "That. Sounds. Spectacular!" He bounced with delight in his seat. "Can you do it now?"

"No, I can't do it now," Bruce whisper-yelled, "it's not a party trick! The Other Guy does a lot of damage and could easily kill someone!"

Casting his eyes toward heaven, Genie huffed, "But you can't just spring something awesome like that on me and expect that I'm not gonna want some confirmation!"

Bruce sighed heavily and got up from the cot. He walked over to his duffel, removed most of the items, and retrieved something from a compartment he'd fashioned between the inner and outer layers. He brought it to the table, unfolded it, and laid it in front of the apparition.

It was a newspaper clipping, in a language that Genie was unfamiliar with. There was one picture. A blurry image of something large and muscular. It's arms were raised and hands balled into fists. It was standing within the wreckage of...something. Genie couldn't tell what it might have been before the beast apparently destroyed it.

"I sincerely hope this is all the proof you'll get. But unfortunately, I can't guarantee it."

Genie was still having a hard time grasping the whole idea of this man, who doesn't seem like he would hurt a fly, going berserk and leveling his surroundings. "What's it like? What do you feel?"

"It hurts," Bruce began softly. "Physically and mentally. I don't remember much when he, the Other Guy, takes over, but I see the end result. So I do my best to keep out of trouble and keep moving."

Bruce's pained expression hit Genie in the gut. "Well then, that's it! Just wish him away. I'll get rid of him for you."

"And then what?"

Genie didn't understand the question. "What do you mean? Then you get to have a normal life."

"And what about you?"

Again, Genie was puzzled. "Me? I go back inside and wait for the next person who decides they need a crummy lamp. It's all very simple, Bruce. I can't believe you're stalling here. You have an out. Why are you hesitating?" Genie was frustrated.

"What if I deserve this? Maybe that's why it happened to me."

Now Genie was angry. "Nobody deserves to have this hanging over their head. Least of all you, from what I've seen!"

"But I can control it, somewhat. I can keep him at bay if I'm good, and I try hard, and I keep my nose clean. But you, " Bruce pointed a finger at his companion, "you can't control your situation."

Genie was dumbfounded. "I can't believe we're having this conversation! What is wrong with you? This isn't about me!"

"I'm making it about both of us!" Bruce became more animated. "You think I shouldn't have to live like this. Well I think you shouldn't have to live like that!"

Genie's eyes widened as an unthinkable scenario crept into his mind. Bruce couldn't possibly...no, that would be insane!

"Maybe," Bruce continued.

"Wait, you don't understand what you're doing!" Genie shouted frantically.

"I wish,"

"Don't you dare, Bruce!"

"...that you don't have to be a genie anymore!"

Genie tried to form his next plea, but it was too late. In a burst of light, Genie's misty aura slowly dissolved. What remained was a very solid, and very perturbed man. "What the actual hell, Banner!" But within a few seconds, his demeanor changed to a baffled state. "Wait a minute." He looked around the room. "Where the hell are we?"

It dawned on Bruce that if Genie was now human, his voice could be heard. "Shh, shh!" He motioned with his hands. "Keep your voice down!"

Genie waved a finger at Bruce. "Don't you shush me! You explain to me right now where we are and how you got me here." His already large eyes grew bigger. "Did you drug me? That is not cool! If this is how you treat a potential teammate then I'm ending this little job interview real quick!"

And now Bruce was confused. "Genie, calm down! What are you talking about?"

"I'll calm down when you start giving me some answers. And what's 'genie'? My name is Tony. I don't think we're at the point in our relationship for nicknames yet." Tony crossed his arms over his chest.

"But you told me to call you that," Bruce replied plainly. "When you first appeared. Don't you remember?"

When Tony responded in the negative, Bruce began to cycle through some of the highlights of the last two days. But Tony claimed to recall none of it, and thought that maybe Bruce was the one who'd been drugged.

Bruce tried, "Well, why don't you tell me your version of what's been happening."

Tony sighed theatrically. "Yesterday Fury asked me to get on a plane and head to a hick town in Brazil to find you and convince you to come to New York and help out with a little family squabble between one of my coworkers and his certifiably crazy brother. The guy's been causing grief everywhere because on top of being a jerk he's also some sort of second-class deity and oh my god that little punk..."

Bruce was still trying to follow Tony's rapid monologue when Tony threw his hands in the air. "He cast a spell on me! Me! Oh he does NOT know who he's messing with. That's it. I don't need any help from you or your green counterpart. I'll wring his neck with my own hands!"

None of this was making any sense whatsoever to Bruce, but Ge...Tony was clearly agitated, and unable to use his indoor voice. "Please, I want to get this sorted out just as much as you do, but let's take it outside. I don't want to disturb the peace any more than we probably already have. And I'm not exactly prepared to have to explain who you are yet."

Tony barely registered what Bruce had said, he was still so consumed with rage, but he automatically followed Bruce out into the night. It was a good call on Bruce's part to get them out of the house. They'd only made it several yards away when a thin man with dark hair and an ostentatious sense of fashion appeared before them. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Bruce saw Tony begin to lunge at the newcomer. He instinctively threw an arm in front of Tony and stopped him mid-motion. Tony's surprise at Bruce's strength was enough of a distraction to afford Bruce the opportunity to place himself between Tony and the stranger.

Tony fumed behind Bruce. "You did this, didn't you, Loki! You stuck me in a lamp! What is your problem?!"

Loki shrugged his shoulders and smiled broadly, "God of Mischief."

"Why," Bruce calmly asked. "Why did you do this to Tony? He could have been imprisoned there for months, even years."

Loki rolled his eyes. "Let's not be dramatic. He was only in there for a short while, and I put him right in your path. You had the ability to free him all along. I merely wanted to see how long it would take."

"I don't follow." Bruce really didn't.

"All that was required to break the spell was Tony's true love to wish him back to normal." Loki smirked, "You work fast, Dr. Banner."

"What...me..." Bruce sputtered.

Then Tony interjected. "You're trying to tell us that Bruce here is my one and only? How do you come to that conclusion?" Tony turned to Bruce, "Don't get me wrong. I did my research on you before I left New York. You're a fascinating guy, and easy on the eyes. You've got a lot going for you. I'll admit I was intrigued. But I didn't come here looking for a love connection."

Bruce didn't know whether to be shocked or flattered. He settled on embarrassed.

"Ah, silly mortals," Loki began, "I've been places and seen things that you couldn't imagine. I'm privy to much information that you don't have."

Tony lips thinned. "Well excuse me if I'm not quick to believe that Bruce and I are supposed to be an item. Your track record for truth isn't stellar." Then he added to Bruce, "No offense, Banner."

Bruce's brain was tired. "That's...quite alright."

With nothing more to amuse him at this point Loki announced, "Well now, far be it from me to be a third wheel. I'll take my leave of you, but I'm sure I'll be seeing both of you again before too long. Oh what fun we'll have."

"You'd better be careful. My boyfriend here is liable to pound you right into the ground if you piss him off."

Loki laughed, "We shall see," and then disappeared.

Tony's adrenaline dissipated with Loki's departure, and it occurred to him that he might have been a little harsh with Bruce. "Well I suppose this explains a few things. Sorry I jumped on you like that before."

"That's ok. You didn't know." Bruce rubbed at his tense neck. To say that he was feeling a little awkward about Loki's claim was an understatement. "Do you think there's any validity to what he said? About you and me? It's kinda crazy, huh?"

The absurd situation still had Tony a bit confounded. "I'm not inclined to believe anything that character says. But you can vouch for the fact that I had some sort of spell cast on me...and that your actions broke it." He held out a hand, "Thanks for that, by the way."

Bruce shook the offered hand. "No problem."

"But it really does beg the question of 'why'. Why did you give up the chance to improve your own situation? I mean, I'm grateful, but you should have used the wish on yourself."

"Yeah, he...you...the other you, told me that, too." Bruce was starting to learn that Gene had been an accurate representation of the real Tony.

"I see the spell had just taken my memories but left my common sense in tact."

Bruce was really at a loss. He didn't have a concrete explanation for wishing Tony back to reality. He just acted on instinct. It felt like it was what he needed to do. "I couldn't leave you like that. I couldn't sentence you to that fate." Tony's easy smile at his words inexplicably reassured Bruce that he'd made the right decision.

"Look, I don't know what we're going to be, but right now I think I can safely say that we're friends. And maybe teammates, if you're willing to come back to New York with me. But I owe you one, to say the least. If you don't wanna get involved in this you can disappear and I'll play dumb." Tony shuffled his feet. "But as your friend, I feel compelled to tell you that I really think you'd be an asset to the team, and absolutely essential in helping me keep my sanity. You're gonna be a blast to have around. I'm certain of it."

Bruce snorted, "No one has ever thought I'd be a blast to have around."

Tony slung an arm around Bruce's shoulder. "Come on, buddy. Come and meet the gang. A bunch of misfits, all of 'em."

"My kind of people," Bruce half-joked.

"And I've got plenty of room at my place. Seriously. You can have a whole floor. And there's lots of cool stuff to entertain you. I bet you'll find a bunch of interesting things to keep you busy. What d'ya say?"

Tony's enthusiasm seemed genuine, and Bruce wanted to be a part of it. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to check it out." He wasn't sure what he was getting himself into, but Bruce realized that he liked having Tony around, and he wasn't ready to give that up just yet.

"Excellent," Tony exclaimed. "I can have a plane here in a few hours. Provided I can find a phone. Don't suppose you have one, do you?"

Bruce shook his head.

"Bruce, buddy, how am I supposed to send you funny memes? Well, that's first thing on the list when we get home."

Home. Bruce hadn't had one of those in a long time. It seemed highly improbable that he was going to have one now, but crazier things have happened to him. Quite recently, too.

Maybe home was just a phone call away.


End file.
